A Debt Shall Be Paid
by flibeauti232
Summary: "You trusted the dwarves, Little One." "You put too much faith in Oakenshield, and look where that has gotten you." A sequel to 'At What Cost'. Takes place after The Battle of Five Armies. Some spoilers, but mostly AU.
1. Price in Blood

**Hello my lovelies! So I finally saw The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies, and while I did enjoy, there were so many things that were left out. So many things I wanted to see and so many things that could've been done better. I wasn't disappointed, but I wasn't 100% satisfied. **

**Anyway I was considering to make a sequel to my previous story '****_At What Cost', _****and after watching the movie so many great ideas came to my head that I just had to put in on paper. **

**So yeah this is Part 2 of 'At What Cost'. Enjoy!**

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_Chapter 1: Price in Blood_

Bilbo didn't expect to wake up again. He didn't expect regain consciousness after that brutal blow he received from the orc. He should be dead by now. But here he was, eyes half-open fighting an immense headache he was sure he'd be feeling for quite some time. With a wince and a groan, he sat up and looked around. It was so quiet and so still. The smell of blood was unbearable and all he could see was bodies of dead orcs scattered across the hill. Fortunately, none of the bodies belonged to the dwarves.

_'__Dwarves!' _Bilbo remembered with a gasp. '_Thorin, Dwalin and Kili! Where are they?!' _

Bilbo quickly rose to his feet, somewhat discombobulated, and made his way down the hill.

He paused for a moment and took out his ring. He pandered on whether no he should use it, since the dwarves wouldn't be able to see him. But neither would any remaining orcs. And he was in no position to fight them off at the moment. So he slipped the ring on just for a moment to scan the area, and entered the world of the unseen. So far there was no one else around. All the remaining orcs were dead.

_'__Good Riddens' _Bilbo thought to himself.

But there was still no sign of his companions anywhere. Which worried him to a whole new degree. Losing Fili was bad enough. The devastation on Thorin's face was too much to bare, and he couldn't even imagine how Kili would have reacted. He didn't know what he would do if he lost those two. How would the others react? Who would become king under the mountain?

He quickly brushed those thoughts and continued his search.

"Thorin!" he called out softly. "Dwalin. Kili. Are you there?"

Silence filled his ears.

"Hello!" he called out a bit louder this time. "Can you hear me?"

Suddenly, he heard footsteps from behind a corner. Then a shadow of a large figure emerged along with a low monstrous growl. And with that came a loud blood-curdling screech followed by the sound of blood splattering. Bilbo began to panic as he took several shaky steps back before turning around and sprinting to the other direction. He didn't get very far as he ran head first into a tall dark figure, sending him flying back and crashing to the floor. With his magic ring picking now of all times to fly off his finger and reveal himself. Though visibility wasn't his biggest concern at the moment. As the figure turned around revealing the Elvenking himself. A red-eyed, flabbergasted elvenking staring down at the hobbit who just appeared out of nowhere. Though the look of shock on the king's face quickly shifted to a look white hot animosity, peering down at Bilbo as if he were the single most abhorrent sight he had ever seen.

Bilbo subconsciously began to cower back, though he couldn't pull himself from the king's piercing gaze. The red, glassy eyes suggested that the king had been crying recently. Though there were no tears. Instead there was a scowl and a snarl plastered on his face, almost distorting his features.

Finally the king spoke, though his voice was so low that it was almost inaudible. Though Bilbo could clearly see him mouth the word '_You' _with a sharp hiss.

"My kin-" Bilbo attempted to address before he was cut off by the king's hand yanking painfully at his hair and ear. Dragging him out of the fortress struggling.

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_A/N: So that's the first chapter. Second chapter will be up soon._


	2. Your End of The Bargain

_Chapter 2: You're End of The Bargain_

Gandalf pulled his sword out of the orc that he had just slain. So far this was the only one he encountered on Ravenhill. Which meant that either Thorin and the others took care of the rest, or the orcs had just relocated. It didn't matter much to him. His biggest concern at the moment was locating his companions, especially his little burglar. What was the fool even thinking, coming up here on his own, amidst a battle with orcs? He could've gotten himself killed or worse. He quickly brushed off the thoughts and continued his search. He didn't want to doubt Bilbo's safety, especially since h survived this entire perilous journey. But he wasn't prepared for a war. None of them were. He just prayed that he would be found alive and kicking. Though his prayers were answered rather quickly (and quite literally) as the sounds of struggling and protesting from an all too familiar voice caught the wizard' ears. He turned around and saw the struggling hobbit in question being brutally dragged around by an angry King Thranduil.

"Thranduil!" he spoke out, his tone filled with authority. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I do not believe I gave you the right to demand to know anything from me," the Elven king seethed in the same authoritative tone only more venomous.

Gandalf paused, looking at the troubled king. He'd never seen him so torn with emotion and agony. Something went wrong.

"What happened?" Gandalf asked gravely.

The elf let out humorless snort and cackle before answering.

"Look around you wizard! Sword's slashing. Arrows being shot. Armor clanking. Blood Splattering. Cries echoing. Death. Loss. Pain. Anguish. _Betrayal._"

He emphasized the word _betrayal_ with a tighter grip on Bilbo's hair. Much to the hobbit's dismay.

"Everything you would expect to see in a war. And for what? The treasure of the lonely mountain is lost. Erebor has been destroyed. The orcs laid waste to the kingdom with the aid of those foul worm-like creatures. The walls crumbled, the floor shattered, and the riches inside have been buried far too deep for any of us to retrieve."

At that Bilbo almost forgot about the position he was in, completely distraught by the king's news. He couldn't believe that everything they fought for was gone. The entire journey was in vain. The dwarves would be devastated. Heartbroken.

Gandalf closed his eyes and pressed his lips in a thin line. His tone and expression became even graver.

"Were there any survivors?" he asked.

"A small battalion of Dain's army still lives. Though Dain himself was not as lucky. The members of your company were either captured or killed. Either way, it makes no difference. Most of the orcs have been slain, those who survived fled due to the death of their leader. However; none of the people of Lake Town have survived the battle."

"Bard…?" Gandalf began to ask.

"The bowman was struck in between the eyes shortly after Thorin Oakenshield and his party came out to battle. His children were slain shortly afterwards by orc forces." The king answered with a straight face before his expression darkened. "Coincidentally, the arrow used to kill Bard was of Dwarvish make, extremely similar to the one Oakenshield fired at me at the beginning of the battle."

At that, Bilbo's jaw dropped. Denial hitting him like a hurricane, and flooding his mind.

"No, Thorin wouldn't-" Bilbo muttered softly before being interrupted by the king's grip on his hair and ear tightening to an unbearable degree. Causing the hobbit to cry out in pain.

"Silence!" the king ordered, glaring down at Bilbo.

"Release the Halfling!" Gandalf intervened raising his staff. "You have no claim over him."

"I have every claim over him." Thranduil responded. "He has wagered his life to me and has lost the gamble. Now I'm taking what is mine."

"I know of the bargain that the two of you have made, centering on Oakenshield's greed. And if I recall correctly, Thorin and his company left the safety of his reconstructed walls of Erebor to fight alongside you in battle. He has proven that he does have honor and is not as easily corrupted by gold as his grandfather. So you have no reason to hold his life or that of Mr. Baggins accountable."

There was a long pause. Suddenly the Elvenking let out a low, cold laugh. Bilbo's blood turned to ice, completely struck by fear as the king's laugh grew louder and louder, nearly booming.

Then he finally spoke. Barely able to maintain his composure during his outburst.

"You honestly thought that Oakenshield's actions were an act of honor and bravery!"

Gandalf narrowed his eyes before looking down at Bilbo and giving him a reassuring look. He then brought his attention back to Thranduil, speaking to him in Elvish. The king responded in the same tongue, the humor completely vanished from his face and tone.

Bilbo glanced at the two, unable to understand a word they were saying. Though just by reading their tone and expressions, he knew the conversation was not pleasant. Despite the language barrier, he still listened carefully to see if he could comprehend any of what they were saying. He was mostly unsuccessful, though he did hear Thorin's name being mentioned throughout the conversation. Though he didn't like the way that the king spat Thorin's name out like a curse, or how Gandalf grew more defensive whenever the king did so. Finally Thranduil let out a heart wrenching yell as he spat out his words through gritted teeth. Gandalf paused for a moment before saying a name that Bilbo could have sworn he heard before.

_Legolas. _If he recalled.

At the very mentioned of that name, the king barked at Gandalf. His face contorting with anger. Eyes growing redder with immense rage and….sadness? Making Bilbo grimace. Gandalf closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before speaking again and attempting to reassure the elvenking. But Thranduil would not have it. Gesturing his words with a harsh pull of Bilbo's hair in front of the wizard. Finally Gandalf's own anger rose, as his voice grew more defiant, and his background grew darker. He raised his staff in a threatening manner and pointed it at the king. Thranduil seemed unfazed by the wizard's outburst, but Bilbo was frozen with fear, no longer struggling against the king's tight grip. After several moments of nothing but angry glares, the Elvenking finally spoke in the language Bilbo could understand.

"Very well then." He said throwing Bilbo to ground, before pulling out his sword and holding against it halfling's neck. "I'll just take his head and let you take the rest of him back to the Shire."

"You wouldn't dare!" Gandalf challenged.

"Would I not?" Thranduil countered. "This battle is lost, _Mithrandir_. Too much elven blood has been spilled in the needless battle. Including that of my own. And there is nothing to gain. No reward for our sacrifice. Just death, agony and loss. So frankly, I have no reason at all to allow this creature to continue to live. But it will be more satisfying to take away his freedom instead of his life. However; if you dare stand between me, I will gladly end his miserable existence."

"You will not lay a hand on Bilbo Baggins in any way!" Gandalf spoke defiantly, pulling out his sword.

The king merely smirked.

"I assure you that by the time you use that sword or that staff against me, the hobbit's head will be on the other side of Dale within seconds. You can fight me, you can wound me, kill me or do whatever you like with me, but the Halfling will not survive. And everything you worked so hard to accomplish with this creature will be lost."

Gandalf frowned pointing his staff at Thranduil as it began to glow. But a quick look at Bilbo's terrified face told him that it was a lost cause. Finally, he recoiled, sheathed his sword and threw his staff on the ground. Shortly afterwards two elf soldiers arrived to aid the king. Thranduil grabbed Bilbo once more by the hair and threw him towards his soldiers.

"This creature is a prisoner of war. Search him, confiscate his belongings, and then bind him." He ordered. "We are returning to Mirkwood, and he will spend the rest of his days behind a cell."

As the guards seized Bilbo, the king knelt down to meet the hobbit face to face.

"I hope you enjoyed your little quest, Bilbo Baggins," he sneered at the scared creature, "Because you will never see the light of day ever again."

With that he headed down from Ravenhill with his soldiers following while carrying the struggling hobbit with them. Bilbo looked back to Gandalf and cried for help.

"Gandalf," he cried, his voice pleading, "Where is Thorin? What happened to him?"

Gandalf only gave him a pained look before responding.

"I'm so sorry, Bilbo." Gandalf apologized, turning his head away.

"GANDALF!" the Halfling cried one last time.

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**A/N: And that was chapter 2. Hope you all enjoyed this and your fantastic holidays. I meant to update this before or after Christmas, but that would have been virtually impossible (for me at least).**

**Anyway, whatever you thought PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review below and let me know. (: **


	3. Suffer The Consequences

**Hello! Sorry bout the wait. I meant to update sooner, but I had just gotten back from my vacation and was recovering from that long road trip. So I'm back and writing again. **

**BTW thanks for the 1000+ views**

**Anyway enjoy!**

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_Chapter 3: Suffer the Consequences_

The elves made their way back to Mirkwood, the moment the king gave the order. They wasted no time mourning. No time counting the number of casualties. And no time paying homage to their dead kin. Though Bilbo could sense an immense amount of grief and heartache from the elven folk, and they didn't take risking their lives and losing many of their kin in a meaningless battle very lightly. This was made obvious by the way the guards confiscated his sword _Sting, _brutally tore off his coat and his _mithril_ (not wanting a miserable creature like him baring the armor and weapon made by their people), bound his hands with coarse rope, and then tied the extension of it to the hull of the horse's saddle. Dragging him unceremoniously forward. While pressing on, he turned his head around and took one last, long glimpse at Erebor and saw nothing but ruins and rubble. The only thing the once great kingdom was reduced to. The city of Dale was nothing, but rubble. Even the ruins of the city were no more. All Bilbo could do was sigh and bite back a whimper as he was yanked gracelessly forward to continue walking.

The journey back to Mirkwood was relentless. The elves traveled for nearly two days straight with no rest. King Thranduil led his people, an icy mask barely hiding the anguish and fatigue. However; he was determined and wasted no time to get as far away from that accursed battlefield and closer to home as possible. And frankly, the other elves had the same thoughts. Unfortunately for Bilbo, they didn't care much about the needs of a mortal Halfling and prisoner, who couldn't keep up much due to the lack of rest, water and warmth from the bitter cold. He had become so weary from the travel that he could barely stand upright without losing consciousness. The elves didn't care one bit, dragging the hobbit along whether he was strong or weak, conscious or not. Eventually they had to stop to let the horses rest for a short while. Bilbo took that opportunity to do the same. Though he was still bound to the horse's saddle, Bilbo didn't care one bit as he collapsed to the ground out of exhaustion. He would've tried to make himself as comfortable as possible if it weren't for those hateful glares he received from the elven soldiers. Nevertheless he forced himself to drift into a brief, dreamless sleep. Before being awoken by a harsh kick in the back of the head and ordered to get back on his feet.

Upon traveling down from the river, where Bilbo and his companions travelled down in barrels, they finally reached the dark haunted forest of Mirkwood. Just as gloomy and sickening as Bilbo remembered. There, they made their way to the palace, where Bilbo was cut from the horse that hauled him around and dragged away by two of Thranduil's guards. Once inside the palace, Bilbo was led to the dungeons where he was cut from his binds and thrown into the coldest, darkest cell. The cell bars slamming shut behind him. Finally alone in the dark, Bilbo curled himself up into a ball in a dirty corner. He couldn't even fathom all that has happened. He didn't want to believe a single word the Elvenking spoke, when he first heard it. Erebor couldn't have been lost. That meant that everything they worked so hard to achieve. Everything they fought for. The lives that were lost and the battle that broke out. All for naught. The dwarves could never reclaim their home. The people of Lake Town, who aided them on their journey to Erebor, suffered gravely at the dragon's wrath, and travelled all the way to the Lonely Mountain just to reclaim what they were promised and to compensate for their losses, didn't even survive the battle. Even if they did, there was nothing to gain and they had nowhere to go. What's worse, is that Bard himself was struck down and couldn't even lead his people. After everything he'd done, he died in vain. And Bilbo still didn't want to believe that the Dwarves were responsible. Specifically Thorin. He had become dangerously corrupted by the treasure and the idea of the Arkenstone in his hand. So much that he nearly killed Bilbo after learning about his betrayal. Wanting to start a war was one thing, nearly killing your friend should have been the final straw. But Bilbo thought there was some hope left, when he watched as Thorin came out with the party to fight alongside in battle against the orcs. For a moment he thought the old Thorin Oakenshield had returned. But according to Thranduil he was wrong. Although he didn't have the full details about what happened (being unconscious throughout the whole time), from what he heard things went terribly wrong after the dwarves left Erebor. And the blame was shifted mostly around Thorin. Bilbo didn't want to believe a single word, but he didn't see what had happened for himself. What was worse, he didn't know what happened to Thorin and the others. What fate they met. Whether they were alive or not. Or how they met their end. All of them. Dwalin and Balin. Nori, Ori, and Dori. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. Gloin and Oin. Kili and Fili. Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo was never going to see them again. And he doubted that Gandalf would come to his aid this time.

All he could do is curl tighter into a ball and weep.

_All is lost. _He wept to himself. _Everything I've done. Everything I tried to gain, all for nothing._

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The next days were filled with nothing but misery. For both Bilbo and the Elves of Mirkwood. Cries of mourning could be heard throughout the great elven halls. The elves wept gravely for their deceased kin, slain in battle. Bilbo could only listen with a heavy heart, sensing their anguish, but unable to block out the sounds. There was movement going on from above, but he didn't have much clue about what was going on. Though he figured that it must have been a funeral, or a commemoration for the fallen elves. The hobbit was thankful not to be a part of it.

Time went by gradually, and Bilbo didn't bother keeping track. Each day felt exactly the same, in his dark lonely cell. The only thing he had to accompany him was a torn blanket and some dust. A miserable existence, but he never once complained about his home back in the Shire. It was practically his fault that he was in this predicament. He chose to leave his home. He chose to accompany Oakenshield's quest. He made the deal with elvenking and lost. And he was partially responsible for the misfortunes of the Battle of the Five Armies. So really, he had no reason to complain. But that didn't mean he couldn't miss his hole. His books. His garden. His bed. And his Shire. Miserable as he was, he still didn't regret his decision to go on this quest.

Time continued to go by and Bilbo had no idea what was going on in the outside world. The elf guards barely even acknowledged him, let alone speak to him. So he continued to stay in the dark. However; one day he overheard two guards nearby conversing about the events of the battle. They spoke rather quietly so Bilbo had to strain his ears in order to listen carefully.

_"__Why again has the Halfling been taken prisoner?" one asked._

_"__He was a part of the company of 13 dwarves we captured several weeks ago, and is suspected or, at the very least, was instrumental in their escape from the dungeons." The other answered. _

_"__Understandable. But a 100 years in prison, seems rather harsh of a sentence. Especially since he was the one who ended up betraying the dwarves and delivering the Arkenstone to King Thranduil and Lord Bard of Lake Town in order to negotiate with the dwarves." The latter elf countered. "Also I doubt he could have been a real threat to our people."_

_There was a short pause. Finally the elder elf responded. _

_"__While I do admit that the king's order was rather rash, you forget that the dwarves started this mess, when they chose to embark on this journey. While their intentions were admirable, they knew not what they were up against. And now everyone around them have paid the consequences for their misdeeds. And you mustn't forget about Prince Legolas' death and the one who was responsible."_

Bilbo froze. _Legolas. Prince Legolas. So Legolas was their prince. Which mean that-_

Bilbo clapped his hand over his mouth as realization hit him. Legolas was Thranduil's son. He was killed. That's why Thranduil took so much of his anger out on the hobbit. A father had just lost his child, along with many of his kin, over a meaningless battle. That must have been devastating to an unbearable degree. Bilbo could barely overcome the sudden shock that struck him long enough to listen to rest of the elves' conversation.

_"__-the king still mourns gravely. He's losing more of his strength each day. His mind is too clouded with grief and sorrow to function normally and continue with his duties. I fear that he might not have much time left before he-_

Before they could continue they were abruptly interrupted by the sound of many footsteps heading in this direction. Bilbo cowered away from the cell door as three more guards barged in. They forced him into a kneeling position and ordered him not to move. Seconds later a tall figure walked slowly into the cell. Bilbo didn't bother looking up, for he knew exactly who it was that came to see him.

"My guards searched every inch of this palace," the deep, hoarse voice of the Elvenking spoke languidly, "Every crack. Every crevice. And any remote sign of an entrance. And while they have known about your little escape route. It is unlikely for you to have entered this kingdom the same way. So tell me: How were you able to get in from under my nose?"

Bilbo sighed. He knew he would have this question coming. It was just a matter of time. However; it would be quite difficult to explain that he just walked through the front door with the aid of his magic ring (which pained him to admit that he lost back in Ravenhill). Especially without any evidence.

"I do not believe, your majesty would believe me even if I told you." He stated simply.

Suddenly Bilbo was grabbed by the shirt and hauled off the ground. Forced to look the elvenking eye to eye. There Bilbo was met with a grueling sight. The king's face was sickly pale, his eyes were even redder than before with dark bags under them. He looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks, but that wasn't the worst of it. His face seemed to have contorted into a permanent snarl. And the flesh on his entire right cheek seemed to be disintegrating (revealing the outline of a hideous scar). His once youthful and flawless features had all, but faded now. Bilbo just gazed at the elf king in aghast and pity.

"**_Try me_**!" Thranduil hissed.

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**A/N: So that was chapter 3!. **

**I know a lot of you think that Thranduil is a jerk, 'cause of the way he treats Bilbo, but in my POV he's just really hurt and takes it out on the only person 'alive' he deems responsible. While his actions aren't 100% justifiable, that's just the way he feels. **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. ;)**


	4. Freedom is a Terrible Thing to Lose

**_SORRY! I'm so sorry!. I meant to update this sooner, but I had started school Monday and have been working non-stop, and I was to tired to post it yesterday. Plus this chapter was a lot harder to write. You'll see why soon enough ;)_**

**_Enjoy!_**

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_Chapter 4: Freedom is a Terrible Thing to Lose_

Bilbo was utterly speechless. Words left him the moment the moment the king abruptly hauled him off the ground. But all thoughts raving in his mind were completely blocked upon gazing at the elf's gruesome features. Fear paralyzed him. Pity crippled him. And he practically went limp in the Elvenking's grasp.

Agitated by the hobbit's lack of response, Thranduil harshly threw him back to the ground. This got Bilbo to snap out of his shock-induced state.

"You will answer me, Halfling," the king spoke, his voice low and venomous.

Bilbo rose shakily on all fours, glancing lightly at angry elf.

"H-how….?" Was all Bilbo could manage to splutter.

"That is none of your concern," Thranduil interrupted. "Now. Answer. The. Question."

Bilbo still wasn't sure how he should respond. And now it wasn't a matter of whether or not the elf king would believe him. It wouldn't be wise to flat out refuse. Or to even just ignore him. But what would he have to gain from telling the king the truth? Nothing? Then again he was a prisoner, so there wasn't really anything for him to gain. And it was unlikely that Thranduil would release him any time soon. Or ever for that matter.

"If I told you, what difference would it make?" he responded in a quiet, yet defiant voice.

However as soon as those words came out of his mouth, he regretted them gravely. He prayed that the king didn't hear that.

"The _difference_ is that I don't degrade you further by chaining you from the neck down and leaving you to rot away in filth like an undomesticated beast for the rest of your days." Thranduil threatened, having heard Bilbo's response rather clearly.

Bilbo grimaced. But kept his defiance. It was the least he could do, to commemorate his dwarf friends, and everything they went.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, I do not believe I can betray Thorin any further," he responded sincerely, "Especially after all he's done for us."

At that, Thranduil straightened himself. Apart from the slight twitching of his lip, his face was an icy, emotionless mask.

"After….All….He's….Done….!" he repeated Bilbo's words with utter contempt. "Like nearly throwing you over the walls of Erebor."

"No, t-that was different," Bilbo tried to reassure, "He wasn't himself at the time."

The king raised both his eyebrows.

"So you are saying that he was not always a greedy, violent, war mongrel whose obsession and love only lies with his treasure. If so, then what do you think was his purpose coming out on the battlefield for? "

"He came out to fight alongside you as allies against the orc forces. Then he traveled to Ravenhill, in order to finish off Azog the Defiler." Bilbo stated. "He could have easily just remained in Erebor and stayed with his gold but he didn't."

The king closed and let out a sound that was equivalent to a low chuckle.

"Allies? Oh, you poor naïve being." Thranduil replied coldly, while shaking his head. "Oakenshield never intended for anyone who wasn't kin to emerge victorious in battle, let alone enter the mountain. He just fooled all of us into believing that he was coming to aid us, so that he may eliminate his competition."

Bilbo paused barely able to comprehend what the Elvenking said.

"He… wh-what?" he managed asked.

"It was he who shot down Lord Bard, so that the men of Lake Town would have no one to lead them, thus meeting their demise." The king continued.

Bilbo's mouth opened wide in shock at the king's words, though he found himself once again speechless. However; when the king didn't say another word, Bilbo forced himself to speak.

"Azog…Ravenhill…Th-Thorin..." was all he managed to get out.

"As I arrived to Ravenhill, I saw my son Legolas handing the blade _Orcrist _to Oakenshield so that he may finish off the Pale Orc. I came to confront Oakenshiled about his sudden turning over a new leaf. However; the moment Legolas turned his back, Oakenshield took the elven blade and stabbed it through my son's heart." Thranduil explained, recalling the cruel events he had witnessed as he watched Legolas' blood spill to the ground, whilst screaming out in denial.

There was a pause as the king opened his eyes, revealing a milky white, blinded right eye.

"He told me that now I would know the crushing feeling of betrayal and the agonizing tear of losing kin. What he had felt for years to come. And he would personally ensure that I never see his treasure of the Lonely Mountain, nor would I cause more ill on him or his people again."

Bilbo was no longer in the cell, at least not mentally. His mind was in another place, having been struck abruptly by feelings of shock, anger, pity and most notably denial. He just couldn't believe the story. Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield. His leader. His hero. His friend. He knew of Thorin's hatred of elves and that of the Elvenking, but he didn't think he'd kill Thranduil's son in cold blood. And for what? Revenge? If that were the case why kill Bard as well? It couldn't have been to eliminate those who opposed him like the elf explained. That isn't what a king of honor would do. And if there was anything that Thorin stressed the most, it was honor. Bilbo was out of touch with the real world, he could barely even register he was saying.

"No. No, you're lying!" He said practically absentminded, currently unaware of who he was speaking.

But he was quickly thrown back into reality as Thranduil grabbed him, this time, by the neck, cutting off most of his air supply.

"And what do you know of to accuse me of being a liar? Nothing!" Thranduil barked angrily, his face contorting even more. I witnessed Oakenshield stab my son in the back right after he helped him. I fully recall the dwarf charging towards me with the intent to kill and the much too vague satisfaction I felt as a cut off his head."

As the king spoke, the right side of his face continued to disintegrate until all that was left was muscle and tissue (and even some bone). A terrifying sight.

"I watched as Legolas lay on the ground, blood spilling. I held him in my arms, doing everything in my power to save him. Pleading. Begging for him to survive. For him live. But all I could do was just sit there and watch the life of the Eldar leave my son in one breath. My only child. Gone. Slain by that dwarvish filth you call a king. And where were you to confirm this as false? Hiding? The only thing your kind have ever been good for. And yet you dare accuse me of lying!"

"I-I'm so sorry, m-mmy kiiiinnnggg, I didn't mean-" Bilbo choked before being thrown once again back on the ground.

"I should kill you." Thranduil stated coldly barely maintaining his composure his outburst. "I have no reason to allow you to live. Just like I had no reason to allow Oakenshield to live. His death however; was far too short. I personally prefer a slow, agonizing and merciless death."

He knelt down and grabbed Bilbo by the chin forcing him to look up at his disfigured face.

"But if there's one thing I've learned over the years: Freedom is a terrible thing to lose. Which is why I took yours."

He released the hobbit and took a step back. Standing tall and hiding his tears.

"Now you will tell me how you entered my kingdom from under the nose of me and my guards." The elf king demanded.

"Why-…?" Bilbo began.

"SO THAT I CAN SLEEP!" Thranduil yelled his voice booming. "So I do not become haunted by these misfortunes. To know that I almost prevented them by locking the dwarves away . And their escape and arrival to the Lonely Mountain was not my fault nor that of my people. And that I do not have the strain myself with the many thoughts or conclusions on how this tiny, insignificant being could have freed my prisoners and cause all of this disaster to happen. And so that I do not go completely mad with grief long enough to rule over my people until the next age before I fade from this world. And so that I know that my son's death could have been prevented."

Bilbo grimaced and bit his lip. He didn't want to betray Thorin and the company, but after all he had heard about what the dwarf had done. He couldn't' bring himself to care as much as before. The others in the company had just followed him to a lost cause. Though they were still his friends, and he couldn't betray them at least. But after hearing the king's tale about losing his son and Thorin's betrayal, Bilbo knew he couldn't. He didn't know what the others' role was in the conquest. But it was all for a lost cause anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo decided to start from the beginning.

"When we were trapped in the goblin tunnels," he began, "I found something with a deep strange magic."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, but continued listening.

Suddenly the ground shook violently causing everyone in the dungeons to lose balance. Before Bilbo could say another word the sounds of Elven horns rang throughout the halls. Thranduil and the two elves stormed out of Bilbo's cell slamming it shut behind them. He demanded to know what was the meaning of this, when another elf raced down the steps and told him that Mirkwood was under attack. Thranduil quickly gave every guard in his sight an order in Elvish. Meaning that Bilbo wouldn't be able to understand what was going on. But his thoughts of confusion were interrupted by another violent tremor in the ground. Followed by another, this time with debris falling off from the cracked earth. Now Bilbo was scared. He didn't know what was going on. He was left unguarded and frankly he wasn't comfortable with earth around him trembling and cracking around him.

The ground began to shake more and more with larger debris scattering all over the place. Though this time, there was a deep, trembling sound at the end that resonated throughout the entire kingdom. Bilbo froze at the eerie familiarity of that sound. He knew it was unwise to stay here but hadn't thought of a way to escape. Then another tremor occurred and began to crack the earth around the hem of the cell bars, causing them to loosen He thought that if put enough for they would break open. He laid on the ground and ram both his feet against the bars, trying to loosen them even more. However; he was unsuccessful during his first several attempts. Seeing that his efforts would be futile in this position, he rose back up (ignoring his aching feet) and used his whole body. His new wasn't that much successful than before, but after another tremor that caused the earth to crumble more around the cell bars (loosening them even further in the process), one strong jerk against them caused the door to fly open. Thus sending the hobbit tumbling out of his cell.

With his newfound freedom, Bilbo knew that he had to find a way out and he knew exactly where to go. He ran down the path that led out of the dungeons and to the wine chambers, unable to ignore the screams and frenzy that could be heard throughout the kingdom. He was nearly crushed by debris as the entire underground palace collapsed around him. Then he noticed that it was beginning to feel very warm. Too warm. And scorching. Then there was that familiar booming sound, very similar to a roar. Not wasting time being curious about the sudden shift in atmosphere, he made his way to the trapdoors. Thankful that it wasn't completely closed off despite several prisoners having used it as an escape. He quickly ran towards the end, nearest to the exit, and stood stock still as the trap slowly unbalanced and tipped downwards. Dumping the hobbit into the river. Before he could swim back up, a flash of distorted orange and yellow came into view from underwater. Terrified he attempted to swim away, before being caught by the current and carried downward. He kicked out and turned roughly on his stomach to navigate underwater better, before being miraculously washed up on shore.

Bilbo dragged himself on the riverbank coughing and trembling. But was abruptly brought out of his soaked weary state at the sight before him. The whole forest was in flames. Fire spread across the land burning everything in sight, reducing it to ash. Nothing had survived. No trees. No animals. Not even any of the elves. Bilbo was paralyzed in shock. More shock than previously. How a dark yet magnificent forest as this could be engulfed in flames, with such little notice in a short amount of time. This could only be the work of….

Suddenly an earth shattering tremor erupted from the king's palace and a powerful gust of wind made its way to Bilbo's direction. Bilbo was too terrified to turn around, until it made its way to the ground. A snarl and a deep chuckle could be heard as it approached. Bilbo finally swallowed his fear and turned around. There he gazed upon large red scales and horns, familiar golden eyes, and a wicked smirk. Denial and uncensored fear, were literally the only thoughts that came to mind.

Then finally, the creature spoke.

"Well. Hello again, little **_barrel-rider_**!"

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_A/N: YEAHHHH! SMAUG IS BACK B****ES! Didn't see that coming did ya? Whatever you thought comment below (before he barbecues you)_


	5. Vengeance

_Writer's block and 'that time of the month'. Terrible combination. But I managed to update the next chapter and two days before my birthday! YAYYYYYY!_

_Also I just had to put Smaug in this story he's just so friggin awesome and incredibly underutilized in the movie (and books). Plus Benedict Cumberbatch's voice (moans). Hope you enjoy!_

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_Chapter 5: Vengeance_

Being discovered by the dragon in Erebor was one traumatizing experience Bilbo thought he would never have to relive again (nor would he ever wish to relive again). And yet here he was cowering back in fear and trembling like a leaf as the enormous beast continued stalking toward him like a predator with its prey. However this time was much different than their last confrontation in the Lonely Mountain (and in the worse way imaginable). He had no ring to conceal himself, no place to run or hide and was completely at the dragon's mercy.

"S-Smaug," Bilbo finally managed to stammer, wide-eyed and jaw dropping.

Smaug merely chuckled darkly in amusement.

"Surprised to see me?" he asked glinting dangerously at the hobbit.

Surprised? No, saying that Bilbo was surprised to see a supposedly slain dragon, who tried to roast him and his companions alive, somehow come back from the dead and now standing before him with an intent to kill (after burning down an entire forest) would be an understatement times infinity.

"B-bu-bu….howww…?" Bilbo continued stammering before being interrupted by Smaug's short yet booming laughter.

"Oh come now, _thief_!" the dragon spoke tauntingly, slithering closer to the hobbit until Bilbo could both feel and smell his hot, rancid breath. "Truly, I expected your choice of words to be far more articulate upon our next meeting. After all, I have been rather eager for our little_ reunion_."

Bilbo trembled even more uncontrollably at Smaug's closeness, his heart pounded against his chest, and his heavy breathing shook his balance. Fear coursed through his veins. However; instead of paralyzing him like he expected it to, his flight response took over and he bolted in the other direction in an attempt to flee (despite having limited escape routes via the burning forest). This turned out to be a feeble action as Smaug snarled and lunged towards the hobbit, though instead of devouring Bilbo or striking him down, the dragon flew over him. Bilbo gasped at the sudden gust of wind of the beast that flew overhead, nearly knocking him down. However at the last minute, Smaug's tail struck out and wrapped itself around the flailing hobbit. Hauling him off the ground. Bilbo's breath escaped his lungs as he was abruptly grabbed and hoisted into the air. He would have screamed if not for the dragon's tail constricting his movement and breathing. All he could do was panic, and look frantically around the now distant valley and flame-engulfed forest. Smaug continued flying with struggling hobbit until he reached a rocky cliff. There he dumped Bilbo unceremoniously on the stone foundation, coughing, gasping for breath and shaken with fear. Smaug then landed beside his trembling prize and encircled him. Trapping him efficiently in place.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Did you honestly think that I would allow you to dare escape me again, barrel-rider?" Smaug scolded almost tauntingly. "Do you know how long I have waited to have you in my grasp once more?"

Although still recovering from the shock of both the sight of the resurrected dragon and his abrupt capture, Bilbo forced himself to ask, for he needed to know.

"How…how are you still here? I saw the bowman shoot you down with the black arrow. I saw the life leave your eyes as you fell. That should have killed, and yet you're…still here? How did you survive?"

The amusement on Smaug's face vanished briefly as he gleamed down at the hobbit. Then it quickly returned along with a cruel, toothy grin. Bilbo swallowed but braced himself for what was to come.

"Really now, _thief __**no longer**__ in the shadows_, you insult me!" The dragon began. "After all your precious little flattery and praise you honestly thought that I, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities, could be so easily slain by one mortal man, and his measly bow and arrow."

Bilbo stared in disbelief as Smaug continued.

"True, the wretch did manage to pierce my hide and strike me down. But he was far from killing me. I was wounded bleeding, but still nowhere near death. And as the humans managed to escape there fiery graves, I went underground to recover from my injuries. There I waited until I regained my strength, before going back out to the surface and slaughtering the dwarves and the Laketown; then returning to my treasure."

The amusement once again left the dragon's features and was replaced by annoyance.

"But what do I find instead? A battle between the armies of man, dwarves, elves and that orcish filth, fighting over my mountain. And what of the outcome? All the treasure of Erebor is _lost!"_

Smaug's annoyance immediately shifted to anger.

"Every coin. Every gem. Every inch of gold. _GONE! _Buried so deep and so dark even I cannot reach it."

Finally, Bilbo found his voice. Though his next words were purely out of impulse.

"It was never your treasure to take!"

At that, Smaug shot him an enraged glare. Eyes and chest glowing in fiery fury and growling at the small creature, before claws and talons shot out and pinned him to the ground.

"WHO ARE _YOU_ TO DICTATE WHAT DOES OR DOES NOT BELONG TO**_ ME_**?!" Smaug barked angrily at the squirming hobbit struggling underneath him. "I TAKE WHAT I WANT, WHEN I WANT IT. AND WHEN I SAY THAT TREASURE BELONGS TO ME, NO LIVING BEING MAY DARE TAKE IT FROM ME!"

Bilbo continued to squirm, yelping as Smaug's booming voice silenced him.

"And when the gold was taken from me, I took my vengeance upon all those responsible. Starting with those filthy orcs, then what remained of that pathetic Dwarf army.

Then he slowly lifted his claw up from pinning the hobbit the down. Though Bilbo still lied in place too terrified to move.

"It is a pity that Oakenshield and his companions fell in battle before I arrived. It would have been more satisfying watching them all wriggle and **_burn_**!"

He then took one of his talons and placed the sharp tip on the hobbit's shirt collar.

"Though you are certainly the next best thing!" he hissed in a soft yet menacing tone.

Without warning, Smaug slowly dragged his claw downwards tearing Bilbo's shirt in the process. He didn't press down hard enough to puncture and kill the hobbit, but it was hard enough to break the skin causing the Bilbo to cry out in pain. When he was finished Smaug opened Bilbo's now torn shirt, exposing a thin, jagged gash on his chest, blood spilling out. Smaug then knelt down until his head and snout were inches away from Bilbo's chest, stuck his tongue out and licked the trembling hobbit, lapping up blood in the process. Bilbo froze in shock at the feeling of being licked by Smaug's leathery tongue. The dragon growled softly and whispered:

"Now I know the smell and taste of your kind. And I must say, it is not an unpleasant flavor."

He then licked him again and again, savoring the taste. Poor Bilbo could do nothing else but lay there as the Smaug continued violating him with his long tongue, covering him in warm, sticky phlegm. After several seconds the dragon reared back and looked over his prey. Laughing cruelly as Bilbo held back his whimpers.

"Tell me, did he not suffer?" Smaug asked suddenly.

"Wh-What?" Bilbo questioned feigning confusion.

"Gold Sickness. Oakenshield suffered greatly from it, didn't he?" Smaug elaborated.

Bilbo gave a pained look which was all the answer Smaug needed.

"And did he not value your life or that of the others as _nothing_?"

Bilbo still remained silent and gave another pained expression, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Once again, answering Smaug's question perfectly.

"And did I not warn you about that dwarf's greed and untrustworthiness?"

"It makes little difference." Bilbo finally responded.

Smaug merely tsked.

"It makes all the difference. You trusted the dwarves, little one. You put too much faith in Oakenshield, and look where that has gotten you." Smaug replied back. "A prisoner to the elves and a whimpering pile of flesh beneath me."

At the very mention of the word 'prisoner' and 'elves' Bilbo looked up questioningly at smaug.

"How…?"

"I found your scent during my attack on Mirkwood." Smaug explained. "I forced that spineless Elvenking to tell me where you were, before I killed him and the rest of his people."

He then coughed and hacked and spat out Thranduil's crown next to a mortified Bilbo. And at that moment the elf king's dungeon seemed like merciful paradise as opposed to being Smaug's prey.

"Now I shall do the same to you." Smaug sneered. "However; if you were to tell me what you are, and where you come from without any riddles, I shall spare your life. And allow you to live as compensation for my losses."

Bilbo stood up and pressed his lips in a thin line.

"So if I betray the safety of my people, I get to live as your slave for the rest of my days." Bilbo spoke dryly.

Smaug merely sneered in response.

"Then I refuse!" Bilbo gave his answer.

Smaug once again chuckled darkly as he slowly backed away from the Halfling.

"Very well then," He stated in an almost business-like manner, "that is your choice….**_Hobbit_**_ of the __**Shire!" **_

Bilbo's jaw dropped in surprise. He already knew!

"I learned many things during our time away. Including many things about your kind. I merely tested your levels of loyalty and cowardice to your people. And congratulations you passed."

Smaug then backs Bilbo up against a wall, cornering him effectively.

"However; there is no prize. Not for you or any of the other hobbits back in your home. There is only…._DEATH!"_

And with that, Smaug lunged towards a screaming Bilbo with his mouth wide open. Then there was darkness, followed by a loud _CRUNCH!_

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_A/N: THE END?_


	6. Life and Loss

**Hello peoples! I know you all are probably going to hate me for making you wait so long. But I honestly considered ending the story after chapter 5. Plus other things lately that have led to the delay (Birthday, schoolwork, my dad's wedding and other personal matters). But then I bought that wouldn't be fair to the readers. So I'm going to continue the story for another few chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6: Life and Loss

Darkness. It was all around him. Everywhere he saw and felt: Pitch Black NOTHINGNESS! Bilbo floated in the dark void completely paralyzed from the emptiness around him. He knew that death had to be an absolute certainty now. Though he expected to die a slow, miserable death in the dungeons of the Elvenking instead of being eaten alive by the resurrected Smaug. It was a much quicker, yet far more brutal demise that was surprisingly a lot less painful than it should have been. Nonetheless he still drifted off in the cold dark oblivion he was sure was the end of his life.

Suddenly, a sound could be heard from the distance. He couldn't interpret what it was at first until it grew closer and louder. And it sounded very much like…screaming. Bilbo froze. It sounded eerily similar to the cries and screams of the Lakemen when Smaug attacked. Was this the beginning of Bilbo's life flashing before him? Or was this the afterlife? An empty void of sorrow and eternal suffering. Bilbo felt himself whimpering. If this was death, then he didn't want it. He didn't want his soul to spend eternity drifting into darkness alone and in agony. He shouldn't have traveled to Ravenhill alone. He shouldn't made the bargain with Thranduil. He shouldn't have kept the Arkenstone from Thorin. And now he almost thought that he shouldn't have left the Shire and allow Gandalf to talk him in to going on this journey.

Then as Bilbo waited for death to draw near, the screaming began to alter the closer they approached. Sounding less and less human. This confused Bilbo but didn't once settle his unease. Man weren't the only beings who could scream out in agony. Suddenly the sounds drew nearer and nearer to the point where he could hear them right above him (only at a great distance). It was very animalistic and didn't sound like screaming at all. In fact they sounded a lot like….

A gust of strong wind hit Bilbo almost like that of a hurricane. Wait he couldn't feel wind in death, could he? However; wind wasn't the only thing he could feel. He could feel a hard, rocky surface underneath him. The hairy tuffs on his feet. And even a throbbing pain in his head. _How was this possible?_ The now screeching and caws above him sounded very bird-like. Not just any birds….

Bilbo's thoughts were interrupted as the atmosphere around him began to change. The foul stench of blood and death filled his nose. And the sounds of metal clanking from a very far distance caught his ears. Bilbo's heart began to beat faster, pounding at his chest. Wait a minute. _His heart._ It wasn't possible for Bilbo to still have a heart in death. And if it was, it shouldn't have been beating. It was then, that Bilbo realized that he was no longer paralyzed. He was beginning to feel every inch of his small, fragile body. Even the sweat dripping from his temple.

This wasn't making much sense. Bilbo had all the physical signs of consciousness and yet the empty black void still overwhelmed his vision. If what he thought was true, then there was only one solution.

He willed himself to open his eyes. The darkness faded away and was slowly replaced by a blinding white light. It assaulted his eyes at first, however they slowly adjusted. There the first things that crossed his sight rather large figures flying in the distance. These must have been the birds he had heard. No….Not just birds….Eagles!

"Th-The Eagles…," he slurred, barely able to comprehend what was going on.

Then it all came back to him.

He remembered travelling to Ravenhill to warn Thorin about the oncoming attack. He also remembered Azog killing Fili in front of them, with the intent of doing the same thing to the rest of Durin's line. Then there was him doing the best he could to defend himself against the orc foe, eventually getting knocked out cold. There was that. But then he remembered waking up in the same position (minus the eagles) and searching for his dwarf companions only to be captured and imprisoned by an angry elvenking. He remembered being imprisoned in the elf dungeons for countless days before he miraculously managed to escape, only to be caught tormented and eventually killed by Smaug. He should have been dead, drifting off into the afterlife alone. And yet here he was in the exact same spot with the exact same throbbing pain in his head. Which meant that….

IT WAS ALL JUST A TERRIBLE DREAM! HE WAS ALIVE!

Bilbo chuckled, tears threatened to spill. The battle may not have ended just yet, but one glance at the sky gave him hope that things would turn out for the better.

"The eagles are coming!" he finally spoke, a smile plastered on his weary face.

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After several seconds of getting his thoughts together, Bilbo knew he needed to find Thorin and the others. He fought off the grogginess and pain shooting throughout his body and made his way down the cliff. There he spotted Thorin Oakenshield standing at the edge of the icy hill, watching the eagles fly towards the battlefield (and not decapitated by King Thranduil). Across from him was a slain Azog the defiler, and no dead Prince Legolas in sight. There stood the rightful king under the mountain, having broken out of his gold-induced madness, ready to lead his people. Just the way Bilbo pictured.

Suddenly the dwarf fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Bilbo froze, his heart skipping a beat. The previous look of pride and joy on his face all but vanished. Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. He ran down the steps and made his way to his friend's side. Praying for everything to be alright. Only then, upon making his way towards his friend he realized the state Thorin was in. Battered, bruised and barely clinging on to life.

"Bilbo!" Thorin coughed glad to see his hobbit alive.

"No don't move," Bilbo instructed kneeling down and putting his hands on his chest. "Lie still."

It was then that Bilbo saw the large stab wound, blood pouring out furiously. It was a repulsive sight that nearly made Bilbo sick. Causing him to look away and cover his mouth and nose. He quickly pulled himself together tried to stop the bleeding.

"I'm glad you're here." Thorin rasped.

Bilbo merely shushed him.

"I wish… to part with you…in friendship," the dwarf continued.

Bilbo shook his head in denial.

"No, you are not going anywhere," he reassured still trying to save his friend, "Thorin, you're going to live."

"I will take back..m-my words and write it into the gate," Thorin promised still in pain. "You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it."

Bilbo almost immediately stopped what he was doing and looked at Thorin.

"I am so sorry, that I have led you into such peril," Thorin apologized, strong hints of sadness filled his struggling voice.

"No, no I am glad to have shared in your perils Thorin," Bilbo admitted, "Each and every one of them."

Thorin looked at Bilbo in a new wonder.

"It is far more than any Baggins' deserves," he added genuinely.

Thorin smiled regardless of the pain he was in.

"Farewell Master Burglar," he said softly.

Bilbo shook his head wanting to protest but thoughts were far too slow to enter his mind. Sadness and denial was overwhelming him.

"Go back to your books. And your armchair." Thorin continued feeling his life slipping away. "Plant your trees. Watch them grow."

He grunted in pain, but he needed to fight through it and to Bilbo hear these last words of his.

The hobbit just continued staring in sadness.

"If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place!"

Oakenshield then made one last grunt of pain before going still.

Denial flooded Bilbo, and he finally found his voice.

"No, no no no no," he cried out frantically trying to wake his friend.

"Thorin don't you dare," he whispered and pleaded.

Then with one final breath, Bilbo saw the life completely vanish from Thorin's eyes.

Still in denial, Bilbo crouched down next to the dwarf's head and urged (unsuccessfully) for him to wake up.

"Thorin, Thorin…. hold on. Hold on…" he spoke lightly in a shaky voice trying in vain to reassure a fallen friend, "See..the eagles…the eagles are here…THORIN! THORIN!"

It was no use. Thorin was gone.

Heartbroken, Bilbo pulled away and sat up tears trickling down his face. Sniveling in sadness.

_Why?_ Was all he could ask. _Why did it have to be him?_ He may not have been the most gracious leader, but he was certainly he bravest and most honorable one. He may not have been perfect, but he was strong. He may have been greedy, but he wasn't blinded by it. He may not have been overly kind, but he did care. He may not even been a real gentleman, but he was a _friend. _

And he certainly wasn't a greedy, treacherous coward he was made out to be in his dream. So why did he have to die. It wasn't fair. He deserved to be king. The company wanted him to be king. And his people needed him to be king. It just wasn't fair.

Bilbo crouched down and wept.

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_A/N: (crying) So that was chapter 6. Reviews and tissue are greatly appreciated. (continues crying in the_ _corner)_


	7. Mourning Sickness

**Chapter 7 everybody! More sadness and sorrow just a heads up. **

**I own nothing (*sobs*) because I don't deserve it. (*continues crying*)**

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Chapter 7: Mourning Sickness

Having spent all his tears weeping for his fallen friend, Bilbo sat on the edge of the rocky cliff watching the battle unfold. It was just far too overwhelming. His mind was far too clouded with grief, sadness, and shock to be overly optimistic at the moment. Although the eagles arriving had put the outcome in their favor, Thorin's death crippled any joy and relief he felt for the others. On top of that he was still too shoken up from his nightmare to cope with the current world, and he wasn't sure if reality would be any better. All he could do was sit there and reminisce.

Upon cutting down several orc forces, Gandalf continued making his way to Ravenhill searching frantically for his companions. Especially his hobbit. He journeyed through the rocky terrains, only to find more bodies of dead orcs and no sign of the dwarves or Bilbo. Suddenly the sound of footsteps caught his ear. They were too light for a dwarf yet not light enough for a hobbit. He turned his head towards the direction where the sound came from. There, emerging from behind a corner, stood the Elvenking Thranduil himself. And in his arms he carried the broken form of Legolas Greenleaf. The elf monarch neither spoke nor betrayed any emotion past his icy exterior. He merely glanced up at the wizard and nodded his head slightly in cold regard. The Istari would have done the same, but he was too distracted by the Prince's battered and bloodied appearance, completely limp in his father's grasp. Immense worry and concern flooded the wizard's being at how still and nearly lifeless the young elf appeared. Though his fear was quickly replaced with relief as Legolas began to stir and grimace in pain. He looked back up at Thranduil and for a moment he saw remorse flash across the king's face before shifting back to an emotionless mask. Both remained silent, their calm expressions speaking for them. Finally Thranduil tilted his head to the right gesturing towards the direction he had just come from. Silently urging the wizard to travel there. Gandalf nodded in understanding and took off, while Thranduil traveled in the opposite direction carrying his wounded son in his arms.

He made his way around the corner where he spotted Kili lying on the ground, his brother nowhere in sight. He walked over to the young dwarf and placed a hand on his brow.

_He's so cold_. Then the wizard moved his hand downwards. _And he has no pulse. _He then looked down and saw the stab wound that bled out. Sighing heavily, Gandalf came to the conclusion about the young one's condition. _Kili is no longer with us. _

The Istari stood up and looked around seeing if he could find any trace of the others. All he saw was the red-haired she-elf he recognized from earlier. Or at least half of her. Her dismembered body lay in a pool of her own blood. Gandalf tore himself from the grueling sight and continued his search, until he was brought to a halt by the sound of more footsteps. This time they were much heavier and frantic (and almost completely recognizable). He turned around and saw Dwalin, carrying the blonde dwarf over his shoulders, making his way towards the wizard. The tattooed dwarf halted his running and looked up at the wizard, breathing heavily. He would have been relieved if not for the dwarf lying dead behind him. His blood turned to ice. Pain plastered across his face.

"No," he whispered, making his way towards the body, "Not him too."

He lowered Fili's dead corpse next to his brother before falling on all fours.

"This can't be!" Dwalin's voice was hoarse, filled with sadness.

Gandalf grimaced. Seeing that Thorin's nephews had suffered the same fate irked him. He just prayed Thorin had made it. Though even he wasn't overly optimistic. Putting a reassuring hand on the dwarf's shoulder, he told Dwalin that he would find Oakenshield and Bilbo and instructed him to tell the others what happened. Dwalin begrudgingly agreed and made his way out of Ravenhill. Gandalf glanced back at the two fallen brothers laying side by side, before continuing with his search.

Finally making his way to the top of the hill, he saw Bilbo sitting on a rock watching the battle beyond him. This time Gandalf sighed in relief, happy to see the hobbit alive. But his joy was short lived as he saw Thorin lying on the ground across from him. As he drew closer he didn't even bother approaching the body. After one look he knew that Thorin Oakenshield has passed this world. It wasn't unexpected. Death was often the price for one's greed. And gold sickness was certainly no exception. Though he was proud that the Dwarf prince finally came to his senses and found redemption. Even avenging his grandfather's death by slaying the pale orc. Nevertheless he couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for his fallen confidant. Thrain's son would not live to take the throne. It was all Oakenshield ever wanted. To reclaim his mountain and rule over his people. But this battle should have never taken place. No bloodshed needed to be spilled. But it seemed that war would always seem inevitable as long as evil and greed still exists in this world. He would have been frustrated if not for the arrival of Radagast, Beorn and the eagles to put the odds in their favor. Yet he still couldn't rejoice due to his fallen comrades. Weary and agitated from the long battle (as well as several other course of events) all the wizard could do was sit next to the hobbit and pull out his pipe. A good smoke bound to settle his nerves.

Bilbo barely even registered the wizard sitting next to him. Otherwise he would have scolded him for picking now of all times to smoke during a bloody war. He just didn't care. His mind was in a different place. His heart was shattered into pieces. He just wanted it all to end.

* * *

Two days had passed since Thorin's death and the enemy had been defeated. In the midst of the battle, eagles had swooped in and picked off the orc armies in more than one swoop. Beorn arrived as well in his ferocious bear form tearing down every single orc that came his way. Taking immense pleasure in his slaughtering. When the fighting was over and the orcs were slain and/or slunk back to the hole from whence they came, there came a matter of counting their dead before they could claim their victory. While the eagles hunted for any enemy remaining, the dwarves and men collected and buried their slain kin (fortunately the remainder of Thorin's companions survived). The elves remained longer to do the same with their fallen kin as well as heal many of the wounded (including those of Lake Town). It was a shaky victory, but could have been far worse.

Finally when the dead had been counted, a funeral was held in Erebor for Thorin, Kili and Fili. Three of Durin's line laying side by side on three separate stone tables. The gold and riches of the Lonely Mountain surrounding them in array. Bilbo and Gandalf both attended the ceremony, along with the rest of the company singing a slow heart-wrenching song in khuzdul. Commemorating their fallen leader and the heirs of Durin. The others who attended the ceremony were the, men of Laketown (including and led by Bard) and some of the elves led by their king who brought gifts (in which the dwarves begrudgingly accepted). Then there was Dain who was comforting a weeping dwarf-woman. Bilbo didn't notice at first, but she looked an awful lot like Thorin. Even had the same beard. Though she had enough feminine qualities for him to distinguish her gender. It was then that he realized that she was Thorin's sister as well as Kili and Fili's mother Dis. She along with several of her people had traveled all the way from the Blue Mountains upon hearing about Smaug's death. Little did they know was that their 'would be-king' was already dead. Bilbo grimaced. His heart immediately went out to her, having just lost both her brother and her sons. It must have been devastating. Another broken heart added with the others, himself included.

A sheet was wrapped around the bodies, as Oakenshield and his sister's sons were to be buried deep within the mountain. Bard laid the Arkenstone upon his breast, the Elvenking laid Orcrist within his tomb, while Gandalf spoke a small prayer to the three before watching them buried away. Bilbo fought his tears as hard as he could, but gave in to defeat after a glimpse of the other's pained expressions.

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_A/N: Can somebody explain to me why the hell Peter Jackson up and decided to just cut out the funeral scene? Like what did he hope to accomplish leaving out a scene that important and heart-wrenching? A shorter movie length? That infuriates me. But thank God we have fan fiction._


	8. Reflection

**_Holy s***, I finally got this damn thing updated. I tell ya this chapter was so hard to write I ended up cutting it in half. But I got it up and frankly I need a break. Not a long one, because that wouldn't be fair to you guys. Anyway no more excuses, I hope you guys enjoy._**

**_I own nothing._**

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_Chapter 8: Reflection_

After the funeral, came the negotiations over the treasures of Erebor between the dwarves and the men of Lake Town. Which went rather horribly. Although the men of Laketown were promised a share of the riches in return for assisting the company with their journey to the Lonely Mountain, Thorin wasn't there to commence it. While the company sided with Bard and his people's cause, the other dwarves weren't too enthusiastic about having to give up a sum of their treasure that was stolen from them by Smaug. Dain, who was next in line for the throne of Erebor after a still mourning Dis declined, didn't feel as if he owed the Lakemen anything and providing for his own people was a more important priority. Their uneasy alliance during the battle was barely enough to sway him. And he felt a little insulted that these men would dare use his cousin's name in order to demand payment not long after his funeral, in which Dain still grieved over.

A feud eventually broke out. Balin and the others attempted to reason with the dwarf lord, but Ironfoot would not have it. Stubbornness and greed filled the air, clouding everyone's thoughts. The men angrily retaliated, while the dwarves grew more and more defensive. Gandalf finally intervened and attempted to appease the madness. Only to lose his own temper, as Dain paid little attention to the wizard's word. The elves took no part of the argument and merely minded their business (not bothering to get involved the quarrels of a dwarf). For the next half hour, nothing but verbal assaults, prideful claims and violent outbursts filled the halls. Very little was accomplished in that time.

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As the fighting commenced, Bilbo found himself standing on what remained of the ramparts of Erebor (that Thorin and the other dwarves destroyed as they made their way out to battle). He didn't bother showing up at the meeting, thinking that both his opinion and his presence would seem irrelevant. Also, some distance from all the bickering and fighting would help clear his mind. As he glanced unseeingly over the desolate land before him, that was once a bloodied battleground littered with death and ruin, he began to reminisce. Having spent all he his tears once again weeping for the lives that fell in battle, including that of his comrades, all he could do was reflect upon all that occurred. Thorin's death still irked Bilbo to no end, but the dwarf's descent to madness was even more heart-breaking. Now the madness seemed to be spreading amongst the others, clouding their minds with greed and violence. Their previous alliances in battle felt redundant at this point.

Just when Bilbo thought things couldn't get more depressing, he thought about his dream. Or nightmare, probably would have been a better term. Although horribly shaken, he had to think back on all that he envisioned. Not only was it shockingly realistic (and he remembered almost every detail), all of it felt like an alternate turn of event that reflected everything he feared. Thorin's betrayal, the company's demise, the battle lost, the Elvenking's wrath, Gandalf's abandonment, Bilbo's imprisonment and even Smaug's return. Every turn of event that he feared the most during and after the battle, all of it happened inside his dreamscape. But what he didn't understand was why he dreamt about those misfortunes. Not to mention where it came from. It was as big of an enigma, as the curse that lied within the treasure.

_Speaking of treasure_….. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his ring. For a moment, he just stared at the jewel, entranced by its strange magic and power. _He owed this precious treasure so much, they had accomplished many things together._ _In fact, without it he would have been __**nothing**__ to those dwarves, and the company would have never finished their quest._ It was then that Bilbo began to realize that he had become rather possessive over his _'precious'_ with a rather negative attitude towards himself. He supposed it could've been from his own insecurities and self-doubt, but even then it only seemed amplified by the ring's influence. Bilbo then closed his eyes and shivered as he felt a dark presence inside the ring nearly call out to him. It irked him and made him uncomfortable, but he was still drawn to its power. He knew this attachment wasn't right but he was horribly conflicted. In fact he couldn't even imagine any good to happen if he had been separated from it. Come to think of it, in his dreams he had lost his ring and became exposed to the wrath and punishments he was to endure alone and bitterly. Then he thought about his dream once more. How was he able to have an accurate depiction of all that he feared and what could have been had the events not turn out the way they are now? The answer seem to lie within the dark, surging magic that lay within his palm.

Suddenly, a tall robed figure approached him from behind, forcing Bilbo out of his train of thoughts as he, out of habit, shoved the ring in his pocket. He sighed heavily before speaking, already having an idea who it was.

"Not now, Gandalf," he addressed, his voice slightly hoarse, "I'm not in the mood for any pandering, the others need your guidance more than I do right now."

"Pandering? That is an interesting choice of words," said a familiar, velvety voice in an immensely regal fashion that sounded nothing like the wandering wizard. "Are you referring to yourself feeling so inadequate that you are the one in need of care and support, or do you speak of the others and their inability to form a solution for their troubles amongst one another?"

Surprised, Bilbo spun around and was met face to face with the elf king Thranduil looking down upon him. He awkwardly attempted to compose himself, before bowing and addressing the monarch.

"M-my…king….I…I…Forgive me. I didn't know…."Bilbo stammered and mentally kicked himself for his lack poise.

"Of course not," the elf interjected as he walked closer towards the humbled being until he was standing next to him.

As the king approached him, Bilbo began to uncomfortably fidget, unsure about how to react to the royal's unexpected appearance.

"Is there something wrong, my lord?" Bilbo finally asked.

"Why must there be something wrong in order for me to appear wherever I want?" Thranduil questioned cocking an eyebrow. "Am I always bound by duty and responsibility over choice and free will? Are you entitled to dictate my presence or even to question it?"

"Wha-…N-no…Of course not!" Bilbo once again stammered apologetically putting his hands up in defense. "I meant no offence, your highness."

Thranduil looked down at the nervous, stuttering creature before giving him something of a reassuring smirk.

"Well to put your mind at ease, I grew weary of the men and dwarves bickering, knowing that no more would be accomplished today," the elf began in an almost bored tone. "And after a drawn out, pragmatic lecture from your wizard, I dismissed myself. But before I left, I wanted to oversee the land scarred from our previous battle. Your presence is neither unwelcomed nor unauthorized."

Bilbo nodded in understanding as Thranduil began to scope over the landscape. Although he would have relaxed a bit more at the king's reassurance, he still shook slightly with mild fear and discomfort. Especially since in his dreamscape, he suffered the brutal wrath from the same elven king standing next to him. Although this reality may have been different from that of his nightmare, it was still difficult to remain composed in the elf's presence.

Thranduil could sense the unease within the hobbit. Under normal circumstances, he would have paid it no mind. After all, he did have a reputation for seeming cold, detached and quite condescending, that in which has stirred a great deal of intimidation amongst those in his company. But in this instance, the unease he felt from the small being was rather…_disturbing. _It seemed to play off as less of the typical duress he was used to from his subjects and more of a small pang of terror resonating from the Halfling. This only confused Thranduil. What did the hobbit do to cause him to have so much fear towards the elf?

"Does my presence trouble you?" the king asked, slightly suspicious.

Bilbo jumped a bit at the king's words, not expecting it. He looked up at the king and shook his head frantically.

"N-no…not at all. Of course not," he denied respectfully. "Why would your majesty ask?"

"I sense an unprecedented amount of fear radiating off from you." Thranduil responded coolly. "It is quite…disconcerting."

"I have nothing to be afraid of." Bilbo reassured, clearly in denial (with his gestures reflecting that).

The elvenking finally turned to look at the hobbit, eyes narrowing. His expression hard and unwavering. This caused Bilbo to nervously take a step back.

"Do you believe that lying can dismiss you from this ordeal?" Thranduil asked in a warning tone, "That I cannot sense fear?"

"N-no No…" Bilbo stammered, nearly at a loss of words.

"Then I demand an explanation." the king questioned growing more suspicious.

Bilbo bit his lip. He didn't expect to get himself into this situation. But here he was, confronted once again by the elvenking. He really didn't know what to say. He thought that explaining that there was an alternate reality in his dreamscape in which the king had been on a raving rampage against the hobbit upon the loss of the battle and his son would be too extraneous. Not to mention personal. So he gave an honest enough reply.

"I did not think your highness would be pleased with my presence upon all that has occurred of late."

The suspicion in Thranduil's expression began to fade into light confusion as he raised a fairly heavy eyebrow.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"This battle for one. The lives lost. Especially that of your people." Bilbo began rather timidly.

"That tends to be the consequence of war," Thranduil replied calmly. With a bitter tasting, "Unfortunately."

"I understand. But…."

"If you are referring to yourself freeing your dwarvish friends from my dungeon, I have long since pardoned you for your deeds."

Bilbo glanced up at the king in surprise. He would have been relieved, but was a bit confused by the king's decision.

"If there is anyone at fault it is myself for leading my people to this accursed battlefield," Thranduil continued. "Nevertheless we have emerged victoriously."

"Our…our bargain…?" was all Bilbo could get out.

The king's eyes widened slightly, remembering the gamble he had with the hobbit. In all honesty, it was more of a test. Testing the extent of Oakenshield's greed, the hobbit's loyalty, and even his own levels of trust. He had his doubts of course. He had even considered abandoning the battlefield to prevent any more elven lives from being slain. In the end he didn't regret his decision to remain and fight.

"Still stands," Thranduil elaborated, "It seems you were right about Oakenshield. He was capable of overcoming his greed to fight alongside us in battle. Pity he isn't alive to fully complete and fulfill his quest."

At that Bilbo's mouth dropped wide open, astounded by the kings.

"What do you mean?" he asked rather defensively. "We made it to the mountain, Smaug is dead, the enemy has been defeated, and the dwarves have reclaimed their homeland. How is this quest not fulfilled?"

"We both know that Thorin Oakenshield's primary goal not to mention one true desire was to take his grandfather's place as king under the mountain," Thranduil explained. "Unfortunately he couldn't live to claim that title."

Bilbo turned his head away and took a deep breath. He was trying his best not to get angry at the king's words. But he couldn't help being so insulted.

"He is **more** than just a title," Bilbo muttered softly yet audibly.

At that Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

"He is our leader. He commenced this journey and led this company. Regardless of his desires, his ambitions and motives were selfless and honorable. He cared for his people and was willing to sacrifice life and limb to reclaim their kingdom. He's fought and protected us throughout our greatest trials and perils. Whether or not he himself was successful, we still prevailed. So you see, rank or not. Dead or alive, he is their king. And to me, he is the embodiment of a true king."

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_A/N: Writing Thranduil was super challenging. I feel like Tolkien didn't flesh his character out enough and I didn't think the movies did him justice. I'm not overly fond of the kind, caring and gentle elf king but I've never liked the cold, nasty arrogant king either. I wanted to split the difference and balance out both character traits. Very stern and no nonsense, with a level of compassion and respect for others. And I love writing interactions between Thranduil and Bilbo._

_Review are appreciated. :)_


	9. Honor

**Hey guys! I'm still alive, but like I said in my last update: I just needed a break. But I'm back and here's Chapter 9**

**Enjoy!**

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Chapter 9: Honor

The elf monarch stared at the hobbit, almost in awe. He had never heard another being speak so highly of a dwarf (wizards didn't count they respected all). He himself had never been fond of dwarves. Barely even tolerated them. The line of Durin were certainly no exception. If anything they were one of the roots of his disdain towards the dwarves.

"I never expected you to have such high regards toward Oakenshield," the king replied coolly. "Your loyalty to him and his dwarven companions is quite admirable."

Bilbo bit his lip and exhaled hard. Attempting to compose himself after his rant before addressing the elf.

"I don't know what your quarrel is with the dwarves. My knowledge of the blood feud between them and the elves is limited. And I know it isn't my place to ask, but why do you hold so much strife towards them? What have they done to you to acquire such disdain?"

Thranduil looked at the smaller being. The question almost caught him off guard. Though it wasn't entirely unexpected. True the feud between the dwarves and the elves was ancient and, in his opinion, unforgivable. Normally he wasn't adamant about discussing matters as personal and contriving as this with others. Even if they were kin. However; he felt comfortable with giving the Halfling an honest enough response.

"The enmity against the dwarves and the elves has been a long-standing one. Their murderous greed and grotesque sense of entitlement has _only_ lead to harm and distrust. Not only to my kin, but that of their own. Even in this age they have not changed. Their actions have continued to reflect that. Is claim over a mere jewel guaranteeing of war? Does their losses truly outweigh that of the others?"

As the king spoke, Bilbo couldn't help but notice the disgust in the elf's tone. As if he had been wronged personally by the dwarves as opposed to just a feud that happened between their races ages ago. He knew he couldn't lose his temper, but he needed to reason with the elf.

"But they have changed." Bilbo replied, after a moment of composing himself and re-mustering the confidence to speak. "You just haven't seen it."

Thranduil raised a heavy eyebrow as Bilbo spoke.

"Look I know that dwarves can be obstinate. And _pigheaded_ and difficult. They're suspicious and secretive, with the ***_worst*_** manners you can possibly imagine…."

At that, Thranduil nodded in agreement.

"….but they are also brave and kind, and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them. And I know your experiences with the dwarves have been different, but I ask that you do not make mine exclusive."

Once again Thranduil stared at the Halfling, somewhat taken by his words. He himself was speechless. Hobbits as a whole were always a bit of an enigma for him. He never disliked them nor did he bear any ill-will against them. He just thought very little of them. They minded their business, and paid very little thought with the rest of the world. Not much to respect, but certainly no reason to belittle. Of all the races in Middle earth, hobbits were the one race Thranduil was most…uncertain about. Solitary and non-violent would probably be the best way to describe them. Then there was this young being standing in front of him, who seemed to go beyond the elf king's knowing concerning hobbits. He couldn't help the fascination he had for this creature.

"Personally, I'm not sure if what you say is true sincerity or just open naivety," the elf stated simply. "It is not that I don't believe you, quite the opposite. But a blood feud between two races that has lasted for generations cannot easily be forsaken. While they may have shown a gentler, more loyal demeanor towards you they are unlikely to do the same with elves. I will admit that my people are just as guilty of contributing to the animosity. Nevertheless, we are still far beyond kindness towards one another. You asked me to not dismiss your experiences with the dwarves and I won't. However; I've walked on this earth for thousands of years and have seen no loyalty, very little compassion and many disappointments. I don't think it would be fair to compare my experiences with that of yours. I do not deny the idea of dwarves being able to change nor do I question your friendship with them. I am merely stating that it is unlikely as an elf to achieve the same level of respect from the dwarves that you possess."

Bilbo sucked in a sharp breath before lowering his head.

"It seems that some things can never improve," he muttered, sounding almost defeated.

Thranduil gave him another reassuring look before replying.

"I wouldn't say that. There is always room for improvement. This battle for one. For the first time in years the dwarves and the elves have fought side by side against a common. Though it may have been for their own, separate intentions. Nevertheless, it was an alliance shared between our races. I am unsure whether or not things will get better between the two of us afterwards. Change has yet to come and takes time to truly blossom. But we have made an improvement."

Bilbo looked back up at the king, before giving him a small smile and a nod.

"Speaking of change…" the king added, "My knowledge of your people may be rather limited but I've been told that hobbits are rather fond of the comforts of home. And here you are miles and miles from the safety of the Shire, all the way on the other side of Middle Earth."

At that, Bilbo began to nervously twiddle his thumbs as Thranduil gave him a sly look.

"I suppose in this instance fate seemed to really favor the unexpected," Bilbo stated simply. "I don't mean to brag, but I believe it made the right call."

Thranduil's smug look began to soften a degree, upon acknowledging the words of the Halfling next to him.

In all honesty he wasn't sure what to think of Mr. Bilbo Baggins. On the one hand, he admired his courage and bravado in spite of his limitations. Though he was still a bit peeved at him for breaking into his kingdom, stealing the keys to his dungeons and freeing his prisoners. Anyone else would have been severely punished for such crimes. Why he chose to spare the hobbit such fate was beyond him. Initially he thought his commitment to the dwarves was just blind loyalty. A servant following his masters' orders with the promise of a handsome reward. After all, according to the wizard the hobbit was hired as their company's burglar.

He also found his nervous fidgeting and awkward sass to be rather amusing. He was taken by the hobbit's flattery and manners and was a bit surprised by his bizarre of confidence when talking to the king.

However; upon meeting Mr. Baggins he saw something entirely different. He saw a being with an unprecedented amount of charisma. The courage, humility, compassion and tact all bound in one so small and seemingly insignificant being. Someone who could stand beside a dwarf and be treated as an equal. To be brave enough to defy Oakenshield during his time of madness. Not out of betrayal, but as a means to find peace and reason with his friend. Then there was his craft and cunning, capable of coming up with a probable escape route for his dwarven companions. As well steal the Arkenstone from under the noses of both Smaug and Oakenshield, and deliver to himself, Lord Bard and Mithrandir.

Perhaps that was why Thranduil chose not to punish Bilbo immediately and instead gave him an alternative (via their bargain). He had grown to respect the small being and saw his actions as more honorable than criminal. He wasn't just a pawn in a quest, he was an active player.

Also he doubted that the dwarves would let the king take Bilbo without a fight. He witnessed their commitment and respect to the hobbit when they refuse to carry out their mad leader's order to kill him and how they tried to protect when Oakenshield nearly threw him over the ramparts. He seemed to have fallen into the dwarves graces. Speaking of which….

"There is something I have been meaning to ask," Thranduil addressed to Bilbo, quickly changing the subject. "Did you come into contact with Oakenshield after his tirade in Erebor and before his demise on Ravenhill?"

Bilbo looked up at the king in surprise. The question caught him off guard.

"Umm…Yes…We did." He spoke softly.

"Did he forgive you for going behind his back and delivering the Arkenstone to us?" the King asked slowly. "Or was he still angry with you?"

Bilbo paused and moistened his lips. Recalling his grueling memory of Thorin's final words.

"Yes. He w-wished to take…back w-what he…said and begged for my forgiveness," Bilbo said, his both beginning to quiver somewhat.

"Were those his final words to you?" the king asked in a slow and gentle voice, careful not to provoke the Halfling.

Bilbo shook his head and took a deep shaky breath before responding.

"After bidding me farewell he said one last thing."

Thranduil tilted his head in curiosity, urging Bilbo to continue.

"He said: If more people valued home above gold, this world would be a merrier place."

Thranduil grimaced. His supposed stone cold heart had cracked numerous times throughout these turn of events. But this seemed to have melted all that remained.

Meanwhile Bilbo did everything in his power to hold back his whimpers before he added:

"Why did it have to be him? After everything he's been through. Everything he's done: good or bad, he didn't deserve to die."

Thranduil looked down at the whimpering hobbit before putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"War always comes at a terrible price. Death lies at every corner and does not discriminate. Strong or weak. Good or evil. Righteous or greedy. In the end, fate decides who stands and who falls."

As the king spoke, he shifted his hand from Bilbo's shoulder to under his chin. Tilting his head up and gently urging him to look him in the eye.

"I have had one too many experiences dealing with losses like that. It takes time to heal. Even more time to let go of what has happened. If you're fortunate, your mourning won't be as agonizing. However; that does not give you an excuse to wallow in your grief. To the point where you become a recluse, undermining the joys of life. Devaluing the things most important. Pushing aside friends and loved ones while you are drowning in self-pity. Cherish what you have and who you are."

Bilbo's eyes beamed at the king as he wiped away his single fallen tear.

"You are a remarkable creature Bilbo Baggins," Thranduil stated as he released Bilbo's chin. "Thorin Oakenshield and his companions are very fortunate to have you."

Then he made his way back inside before pausing and giving one last look in Bilbo's direction.

"And in time, so will others."

With that said he disappeared through the halls.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow in confusion, before shrugging his shoulders and giving the absent king a smile.

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_A/N: God this chapter was so hassling that it kinda felt a little half-assed. Do you guys think I should go back and revise some things. _

_Whatever your thoughts are review below and let me know. _


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